Second Honeymoon
by HeyBulldogProductions
Summary: A divorce 3 years prior leads Sam and Freddie separate ways. One's a criminal, the other's a cop. Will their pathes cross? What twisted events will occur? Rated t for language, violence, and sexual references. Seddie  well...kinda.
1. Chapter 1

**Second Honeymoon**

_Location: Fir Island_

_Time: Seventeen-hundred hours_

Sam Puckett was enjoying an ordinary garden salad at her new condo in Fir Island. For the first time since she moved in, she's having house guests spend the week. Her best friend, Carly Shay and Carly's daughter, Macy.

"And this is the balcony. Pretty sweet view, huh?" Sam gestured to the lovely white balcony that was built on the side of her condo while eating a couple bites of salad.

"It's beautiful!" Carly admired while walking outside. Macy, her eight year old daughter, also went outside. They were wearing matching white sun dresses and high-heels that clapped the wooden floor.

"You know who would've loved this?" Carly asked.

"Carls…" Sam growled. "I have a gun, remember?" She patted the side of her police belt. Ironic, huh? Sam Puckett a cop. She made the decision to become a cop when Spencer began dating a cop, Layla, and showed Sam how cool it was helping the law instead of breaking it. Layla even took Sam to her job one day to show her what life as a cop was really like. For the first time in Sam's life, not only did she find true bliss and figure out what she really wanted in life; it was the first time she'd been in a police car without handcuff on her wrists or metal bars separating her from the cop driving.

Sam has always been sure about two things in life, or so she thought. One of those things had fallen through only months before. Sam didn't like to talk about it much (or at all for that matter), but Carly always dragged it out of Sam. Even if that meant that Sam would have to open up. That was especially hard now, seeing as how that's how Sam got into that whole stupid mess anyway.

"I was just joking, Sam." Carly laughed lightly.

"I know you were. And you _are_ right. He would love it here." Sam's face fell a bit as she twisted her badge with her right hand, gazing downward at a band on her right ring finger. Quickly, she stuffed her right hand into her pocket and made her way into the kitchen to dispose of her salad plate.

"Make yourselves at home. Clean out my fridge; watch my TV, do whatever."

"I'm taking you up on the offer, Puckett. Seeing as how _you _did that all without permission for _years_" Carly giggled as she placed her hands delicately on her thighs.

"And yet, you remained my best friend…God bless ya." Sam said while affectionately giving Carly a noogie and planting a friendly kiss on-top of her head. Carly retreated back with a noogie of her own. Not as powerful as Sam's, but it surely left Sam's hair in a blaze. She didn't notice and casually took a seat upon her squeaky leather couch.

"Aren't you gonna fix your hair, Aunt Sam?" Macy asked politely. Macy was the spitting image of Carly (which was a blessing, considering Gibby was her father); Long, floating brunette hair, thick eyelashes, and that wholesome goodness image Carly keeps even today.

"Nah, I deal with crazy people at work, I'm not dating anyone, plus that requires energy-"

"Which Sam never has any of." Carly finished the sentence.

Sam exclaimed, "Exactamundo!" and kicked her feet up in the air. Carly sat next to her while Macy walked around the living room for a little bit. While the two adults were on the couch discussing stuff on the news (mainly Carly was. Sam was pretending to be interested to keep her mind off other things.) Macy noticed a painting near the left corner of the peach-colored room; A painting of a big finger. The whole hand took up the majority of the landscape. Macy looked deeper and deeper into the painting until she found a scribble in the corner. All she could make out was an 'S'.

"Aunt Sam, where did you get this?" Macy pointed up to the painting she was admiring. Sam's head snapped up, unexpectedly. A smudge of relief came over her face as the new distraction caused Carly to let loose of her news story that was clearly boring Sam to death. Sam strolled over to the painting and stared at it. A shiver came over her as the memories of the origination of that painting came flooding into her mind. If Carly wasn't there she would've lied to Macy. Carly knew the actual story, so no chizzing around this one.

"I….made that."

"Really? I didn't know you were a good artist like Uncle Spencer. Mommy's terrible." Macy looked at Carly and chuckled.

"Shush child!" Carly scolded her before giving her a playful pat on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I made that a long, long time ago."

"In a galaxy far far away?"

"You're starting to sound too much like your Uncle F-…Anyway, yeah. It was a while ago. Junior year of high school I think."

Carly jumped the gun before Sam could change the subject. "Sam was in a mental hospital when she painted this."

"Mental hospital?" Macy turned to Sam, who grit her teeth and glared at Carly. Carly's posture became taller as she squared her shoulders and crossed her arms. _Tell her_ she communicated to me without speaking. Sam held up a justifying hand as if to say _Ok, I will._

"Yeah, I was in a mental hospital for a little bit. I was never _insane, _per say, but I thought I was."

"Why?"

"Well, I thought I was insane for liking…someone." She shot an awkward look at Carly who whispered something into Macy's ear.

"Oooohhhhh…."

"Yeah, so I checked myself in after I kissed him at a lock-in at our school three days earlier. He, your mom and your dad came to get me out of there with no such luck. First your mom came in to try to talk to me, then he interrupted and I was convinced I wasn't crazy enough to stay there, but I was still somewhat insane for liking and hating him at the same time. I couldn't go unless my mom or dad signed me out, which was jank, so we had Spencer dress up like my mom to bail me out."

"Why does that _not _surprise me?" Macy just rolled her eyes at the insanity that is her Uncle Spencer.

"Some freaky wackjob blew our cover so we had to do iCarly from the hospital. Your mother over here" Sam dropped her head and looked over at Carly who waved. "Interfered with the webshow and got some 'Seddie' fans to web chat and comment and try to convince me that I wasn't crazy. Then _he_ got on his pear pad and tried to convince me I wasn't crazy either. It wasn't until he…kissed me." Sam was very hesitant to bring up that kiss ever again. It was easily the best kiss of their relationship and one of the fonder memories she had of him.

"Then I knew I wasn't crazy. But, yeah, I made that painting in the middle of that whole mess."

"Interesting." Macy nodded her head and tried to soak up all this new information she was given. Carly put her arm around her daughter while Sam sat up and adjusted her uniform a bit, tucking her shirt in.

"When do you have to go to work?" Carly asked.

"In a few hours, but I always like to be prepared in case something were to happen and I had to go in."

Macy interjected, "Like that guy on the news?"

"What guy?" Sam did the cliché and took a doughnut out while in her cop uniform. Her black boots scuffed the floor on the way to and from the kitchen.

"I was telling you about him just a few minutes ago. Were you not listening!" Carly asked as if I'd never do something as bold as not listen to a word she said earlier.

"Not really." Sam just shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

"There's a guy running around hacking almost every computer system in the Washington area."

"Oh, that guy. We've been trying to catch him for months. He's our top criminal right now 'cause he's local. Not exactly sure what he's after. Must be a tech doof if he's figured out how to do all of the damage he's done so far."

Sam's cell phone began buzzing on the inside of her pocket.

"Hello?..." Sam's face twisted in a confused manner. "W-what? Ok, I'll be….uh huh….uh huh. I'll be there in 10." _Click._

"Who was that?"

"Sheriff Daniels, my boss. He said there's an emergency down at the station and he needs me there right away. Don't wait up, it's gonna be a long night." Sam got up from the couch along with Macy and Carly, giving them both a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Night" she waved.

…

The sound effect of stones bouncing under Sam's '03 Ford Mustang echoed through the vacant parking lot as she pulled up with a cigarette hanging out of her teeth. When she put the car into park, put the hood back on, and finished her cigarette, she strolled up to the station. Sheriff Daniels met her by the door, seeming urgent for her arrival. His face lit up when he saw her come in.

"Thank goodness you're here. Come." He waved Sam to follow him down a thin and murky hallway. The sheriff was about two inches shorter than Sam, bald, and pasty as they came. This was his last year as a sheriff, so he's more than eager to go out with a bang. Sam had a feeling this criminal, whoever it may be, may be his bang.

Two tall, identical, brunette officers guarded the door that the sheriff headed towards.

"We caught the computer hacker. Finally, he has an identity."

"Seriously!" Sam couldn't have been more ecstatic. "My best friend and I were just talking about that guy."

"Yes, well we were talking to him, he turned himself, actually, and gave us some pretty…odd information."

"About?"

The sheriff sighed and placed his hands firmly on his sides. Not a good sign. "He knows you, Sam. Fairly well as a matter of fact. That's the reason we've called you down at this hour."

Sam's stomach sunk down. She took a couple of deep breath, completely oblivious, and asked, "Who is he?"

"You'll see." Daniel's waved the guards to step aside and let Sam enter the room. Something inside of her head told her to grip her gun, just in case. She gripped the door handle, gave it a good twist and crept inside. Her grip tightened on the gun even more and sweat was dripping off the front of her bangs. The suspect was turned around in an office chair so she couldn't see him. His handcuffed hands were the only visible part of his body. Sam took a gulp and started to speak.

"Officer Puckett entering. Sir, please turn around and state your name." The tension in her voice was well hidden. Sam had always been exceptional at lying. The suspects converse sneakers began to work their way around in a circle, pitter-pattering. Sam's shaky breathing became quieter as the suspect had almost completely turned around. Converse sneakers, simple blue jeans, a black converse-made shirt with a white wife beater visible underneath two unbuttoned buttons, a cross necklace, thickish brunette hair, and simple brown eyes. Sam gazed at the man twice before gasping and once again looking into his eyes. They were stained brown. The brownest you could ever imagine. With the same smirk that she last saw three years prior. He opened his mouth to speak, that smirk still plastered on his lip.

"Benson. Fredward H. Benson."


	2. Chapter 2

**Second Honeymoon**

"B-B-Benson?" She stammered.

"That's the name. Don't wear it out, _sweetie._" He replied with a dry sense of sarcasm. Sam spat out a sentence filled with sarcasm herself, more relaxed this time around.

"What are _you _doing here?"

"What do you think?" He shifted in the chair, unable to break free of the handcuffs. "I'm the computer hacker guy. Turned myself in, and now I'm talking to you. Funny how life works out sometimes, huh?"

"What up with your voice?" Sam pointed at Freddie, whose tone was usually jumpy and pleasant. Today it took more of a dark, shady sound. Sam didn't find this tone of his to ease her, so she pulled her gun out and gripped it in her hand. Snarky Freddie seemed to be badder than bad.

"Sounds more…_villain-like_, dontcha think? Does it please you?...Hmmm?" He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds then flashed a smile that formed a smirk at the corners of his mouth.

Sam's face sucked back. "Actually, it's rather repelling." She strode closer to him, the gun still in her hand. Freddie eyeballed it grimly.

"I thought you liked bad. _You_ were bad once, Sammy. _Very _bad." Her teeth cleaned to the point of almost shattering. In less than three-seconds, Sam had reached Freddie, hooked one of her arms underneath his arm pit and placed her hand behind his neck. The other arm held the gun to his temple. The guards outside were eyeballing Sam. They knew she'd never really shoot somebody out of anger, but this was her ex-husband. Anything was possible, even for the tamer Sam Puckett. Her face lingered closely to his ear, her lips almost touching his sideburn as she whispered:

"Listen here _Fredward._ I don't like this little game you're playing."

"What game?" He interrupted. She stiffened her hand up on the gun.

"The bad boy entourage; the voice, the attitude, the smirk. Just stop."

"I thought that's why we got divorced in the first place. _You _didn't like who _I _was."

Sam spat, "S-so?"

Freddie turned his head up to look her in the face for the first time, seeing as how he had the opportunity to. This was the only time during this whole meeting so far, besides when Sam was checking him out when she first entered, that they were simultaneously looking at one another.

"Your eyes look beautiful." His old Freddie tone was slowly beginning to come back. Without rational thinking, Sam slammed his head down on the wooden interrogation table. Hard.

"I ain't here to play this game all night, ok?" Freddie nodded with a couple of grunts and groans. The gun was now pointing at the back of his head as Sam had changed her position. Now her hand was pressing down on the back of his neck while the other cradled the gun gingerly.

"Sam…my wrists. They're chafing. Do you think I could put some lotion on them for a sec?"

Sam rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I see some things have never changed." She spotted a tub of lotion sitting next to a vase filled with cold colored marbles and picked it up. Tossing it up and down in her hand, she used the other to grab a key, unlock Freddie, and grip his bicep. Then she handed him the lotion and used that hand to hold the gun up to his head again.

"You have one minute. Go." The intensity of her voice was so strong. There was no need for yelling. Sam never yelled. Her tone made up for the lack of volume. Freddie slowly pumped some lotion in his hand and began rubbing.

"I don't rub as well when there's a gun pointed at my head." Sam's grip tightened up even more.

"Rules are rules…twenty seconds." Freddie put the lotion down and turned so his frontal area faced Sam directly. Sam turned to the left so her side was facing him, but she could still keep an eye on him with her peripheral vision. She changed the gun position so it pointed at his temple again on the other side of his head. He closed his eyes and hung his mouth wide open and let out a whisper:

"You know, that gun pointed to my head really makes me wanna have sex with you, again." He smugly chuckled. In a second, Sam had managed to lift her arm up and swing the gun into his groin, hard. Her hand suspended in the air for another moment.

"How about now?"

"Well…" he stifled out another chuckle. "Still."

"I'm going to give you one more chance. If you say another word, I'm shooting. South."

He shook his head vigorously, still in pain. "Not really…"

"Good." She scrunched up a patch of his hair and thrusted him away from her. Then she lassoed the handcuffs from her belt and attached them to his wrists. The shampoo smell coming from Sam's hair caused Freddie to close his eyes and moan softly. Sam, now wrapping her fingers around his wrists and standing only centimeters behind him, perched her neck on his shoulder and whispered:

"Too bad I'm a cop and you're a criminal and my ex. That moan of yours is powerful. C'mon." She tapped his behind with a device from her belt and marched him out of the room. The rest of the police force put him in a cell for the night before they decided what to do with him in the morning. Two prison guards stood outside of the cell, just in case. If Freddie is smart enough to hack the most complex computer matrix in the states, breaking out of a prison cell would be child's play. Sam lingered outside of the cell, waiting for Freddie to return. He came back in an orange jump and leaned on the bars.

"You didn't put any bees in here, did you?"

Sam managed a little laugh. That memory stayed fresh in her head for a moment then faded. "No, and you still should've gotten an A on that paper."

Freddie boldly stroked Sam's cheek through the bars. The guards tense up until Sam started to blush. She removed his hand gently, holding it for a couple of seconds before letting it drop.

"Night" she called out. Freddie and the prison guards waved a goodbye to Sam before she got in her car and headed out for the night.

Boy, did she have a story to tell Carly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Second Honeymoon**

"Wait, the computer hacker is…Freddie!" Carly yelled, trying to ration this entire thing out. Sam sat on her couch in a bent over position with a beer and some ibuprofen and rubbed her temples.

"It's true. God, how did I not see that coming when I walked in? I mean, of anyone else that I've ever met; Freddie would've been my first suspect in mind when it came to this type of crime. It still took me by surprise." Sam finally exhaled after he sentence, cupping two blue pills in her palm and downing them with a Sam Adams. The coldness of the beer, along with the recent shock Sam had encountered within the last twenty-four hours caused her to shiver. Carly came over from where she was standing and watching Macy play in the field by Sam's place to put her arm around Sam's shoulders.

"I know what you mean. Freddie's never even so much as killed a fly." Sam pushed herself up by pressing her palms to her knees and walked to a drawer in the kitchen that she had locked with a key.

"There's some psychological thing behind that. I don't know what the exact name for it is, because I slept through the class most of the time, but I know it has something to do with rebelling after a certain change?"

"Oedipus Rex!" Carly questioned, raising a brow.

"Carls, that's about the dude who slept with his mom and stabbed his eyeballs out. Even _I _knew that!"

"Oh, yeah" Carly tried to, literally, shake the thought and image out of her mind. "I know what you're talking about, though. It's almost parallel to…what's that thing forty year old guys go through?"

"Mid-life crisis?"

"That's it! Except for the age part of it, Freddie's going through some kind of crisis" Carly said. Sam clipped herpersonal keys off her belt hook and separated the smallest one from the rest to open the drawer back up. The first thing she pulled out was a couple of files from years ago and a calendar.

"Freddie and I hooked up, again, right after graduation, right?" Sam started.

"Right…"

"And he never had a chance to be anything besides what his mother wanted him to be: a gentleman, responsible, conservative, and bombproof, in a sense, right?"

"Where are you going with this?" Carly pushed herself off the couch, carrying Sam's beer over with her and giving it to Sam for a swing.

"That means" She said before she gulped down the rest of the half-empty bottle and threw it away in a trash can. "He never had a chance to pilot the plane solo! He went from being under Hitler oath at his mom's house, to being my husband. After we got divorced, he took that newfound freedom and stupidly, like a baby bird trying to fly before it's ready, hit rock bottom."

Carly's jaw dropped in amazement. Sam's not dumb, by any means. She's simply lazy. It must've taken a lot of brainstorming to come up with that sort of thought, which she had plenty of time to do since she got no sleep.

"You're absolutely right!"

"A few nights in prison and someone'll bail him out. Then he can go back to his bachelor lifestyle. It ought to rough him up a bit, get him a feel for the outside world where no one knows him or his stupid quirks." Sam rifled through the drawer and pulled out everything, presenting it to Carly.

"Marriage certificate, House loan papers, the papers you got from the hospital after your miscarriage, wow, you kept everything" Carly said aloud, pulling out what seemed to be Freddie's old wedding ring.

"I kept everything….except…one thing" Sam shuffled uncomfortably to her fridge, pulling out another bottle of beer. Carly normally would've made a remark about drinking that much this early in the morning, but that fight was neither here nor there; not worth fighting.

"Which is?"

"A promise. I swore for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, but….I broke that. Shit, I can't even blame him. Afterall, _I _divorced _him_. And I blame myself for what happened last night. If I hadn't….bailed, things would be the same" Sam chugged most of the beer after the midst of her rant. Carly put a loving hand on her shoulder just as Macy entered the back door.

"You can blame yourself, sweetie. You guys got married at eighteen because you were _in love_. Maybe somewhere in the future, you could fall back in." Sam, about to take another swing, put the beer down and tapped her clean ashtray with her nails.

"Lighting doesn't strike twice, so if you're holding your breath for Freddie and I to even _consider_ talking about getting back together don't. With or without this jail incident happening, I'd still feel the same way that I do now, which is in favor of seeing the glass half-empty."

"Aunt Sam" Macy politely interrupted. "There's a cop car in your driveway. The bald man who drove the car asked me to get you, since you're home."

"Great" Sam spat. She took out a cigarette from a metal container from inside her uniform pocket and hung it from the corner of her mouth in a bad-ass way. She made it two steps outside before being greeted by Sheriff Daniels.

"Hello!" He waved. "Samantha, you're going to end up with emphysema."

"Beats what I had to go through last night" She mumbled, puffing the cigarette. "What's up?"

"Well, I have a proposition for you. Since you're the strongest, most courageous, and pardon my French, the most bitchin' bad-ass on our force, I'd like to offer you a special token of my goodbye: my job. It pays well, has great benefits, and put you a great deal above the others on the force, but it requires you to complete a task. You may roll your eyes, go running for the hills, and all that, but the job just might be worth it."

Sam took a long, hard drag and peered up at the sheriff. "I'd be called sheriff, right?"

"Yes ma'am."

"What's the proposition?"

"The inmate from last night; we've granted him a house arrest warrant with an ankle bracelet. The thing is he has to be locked up for a few months in an island almost all the way across the pacific. You get him there safely, and the job is yours. If he escapes or any inappropriate relationships fester, you'll be fired."

Sam had to think long and hard about this one. She was sneaky, but not as sneaky as Freddie's proven himself to be with his crimes. The blonde woman peered into the car where he ex-beau was sitting in the backseat with his head craned down and his eyes tensed up and closed.

"Challenge accepted" Sam said blankly, offering her hand to Daniels. He shook it with a grin and a giggle.

"Great! I'm very relieved that you chose to do so. You're definitely the best one for this case, given your history with him. He'll trust you the most. Until you get back, I'm still working my job. Once I see you're back where you need to be and he's where he needs to be, the job will be yours. Sam, I bid you adieu!" Daniels strutted to his car, letting Freddie out of the backseat and cuffing something to his ankles before walking forward.

"Hey Sam" he answered shakily, not giving her eye contact. She just gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

"He keeps this on 24/7, protect it before showering. We'll fax your travelling information tomorrow morning" Daniels finally left in the car, peeling out of the driveway. Freddie, cuff less and in his normal clothes, turned to Sam. He tried smiling, but it fell through.

"Listen, about last night…that wasn't really _me_ in there. Being in a prison, I don't know, makes you feel like your bite is worse than your bark. I've changed, just not that much."

"Well, babysitting you for god knows how long will assure me of that. Now, I have to go hit the showers. Make youself at home, I guess."


End file.
